


The Spirit Speaker

by Thestormraven



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Canon Compliant, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:32:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thestormraven/pseuds/Thestormraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Avatar Korra passed from this world, the White Lotus began to scour the Earth Republic for the next Avatar.<br/>They failed. The next Avatar was never found. Most believe that Unalaq and Vaatu managed to break the cycle...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Refuge

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> Ok so this is my first Fanfic... EVER.  
> While I've always been an avid reader, I have never before been tempted to write my own Fanfic until now. This is a story idea I've had bouncing around in my head for months, and I'm hoping I can do it justice.  
> I'm always open to tips and constructive criticism, so let me know what you think!
> 
> \---
> 
> The setting should mostly reveal itself through the story, but the essential basics are as follows:  
> Avatar Korra died eighteen years ago, and the next Avatar was never discovered. Most of the world believes that the conflict between Korra, Unalaq, and Vaatu must have severed the cycle, making Korra the LAST Avatar.
> 
> This story is set approximately 60 years after the end of "Legend of Korra"

Bright skies and the crisp smell of autumn washed over the rugged edges of a red stone precipice, lending the usually harsh mountain an air of serenity. Sitting near the verge of a craggy ledge, folded into a comfortable lotus, Quan overlooks the land surrounding the sacred peak. Usually this would be a time for quiet meditation, but the normally silent mountain now reverberates with the rolling murmur of hundreds of voices below. What was once home only to the Spirit Speakers and Mǔqīn's children had become the last refuge of an entire people. 

The Saber-Wolf tribe had once covered all the lands surrounding the sacred mountain for leagues around. It was said that the great spirit Mǔqīn had given the first ancestors claim to all the territory that could be seen from the summit of her mighty home. Those same hunting grounds had been kept and protected for four hundred generations. The thought that his generation could be the last, cast a deep shadow over the serenity of the world below. 

Beside him, Láng made a sympathetic whine.  The darkening of his thoughts not going unnoticed by the auburn saber-wolf. Scratching the scruff of the shaggy beast's mane, Quan wasn't sure if he was comforting his friend, or the other way around. 

“It's fine, girl. Just thinking is all...”  Láng huffed and flopped her massive head onto Quan's lap, turning her head to the side so that her sharp canines wouldn't dig into his leg. When Quan simply continued to run his hands silently through her thickening pelt Láng huffed again, loudly encouraging him to vent his thoughts to the cool air. With a chuckle, Quan shaped his thoughts aloud.

“I worry about what this world will look like in the time of my children. Or my grandchildren. They say that once, the Avatar would speak for the spirits, and help maintain the balance of the world. I often wish the world still had a protector like that. Maybe they're still out there somewhere, unaware of the imbalance growing here...” 

It was a childish dream that Quan often whispered to himself, or Láng, when the world seemed a bit too bleak. A foolish waste of meditative energy, Master Chue had called it. The Avatar cycle had ended with Korra, and waiting for some non-existent savior would do the people no favors. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden twitch of Láng's ear. The saber-wolf sat bolt upright, her sensitive ears picking out far off sounds long before they reached Quan. Standing to investigate, Quan heard the distant baritone howl of Hoan, Master Chue's companion. The elders must have another task for him. Perhaps a new band of refugees looking to make camp. Grasping the rim of the stoney ledge, Quan swung himself underneath the outcropping only to land on another ridge ten feet below. 

Láng whuffed excitedly, turning to race down the worn foot-path to the Spirit Speaker's lodge below. This was their private game. Láng was always faster on foot, but Quan could climb and leap through the various shortcuts down the peak. Once Master Chue had made a habit of scolding him for this risky behavior, reminding him of the treacherous nature of the mountain's loose stones, but after nearly a decade of practice even Chue eventually had to admit that Quan knew what he was doing. By now the stones were familiar friends, the path was so etched in his mind that he could run it in the dark. Swing, jump, slide down the smooth rut to the left, cross the foot path, jump, veer right... The motions became a meditative mantra in their own right, keeping Quan's mind focused on a single goal.

With the final leg of his trek in sight, he set his stance and skidded down another smooth surface before one last jump set him mere yards from the entrance to the lodge. Sticking the landing, Quan pumped his fist into the air, about to give a shout of victory, when he was cut short by a  _ languorous _ yawn. Láng lay comfortably on her back by the lodge, acting as if she'd been there waiting for  _ ages _ . Not for the first time, Quan wished he was an earthbender. Maybe then he would finally win this game. With a false pout that threatened to break out into a grin, Quan pointed an accusing finger at the saber-wolf. 

“Right... I'll get you for that. You just wait!” 

“QUAN!” Came a cantankerous bark from inside the smokey structure. “Quit playing with the pup, and get in here!”

“Get ready to run, girl. Chue sounds like he's in a mood today...” Quan warned in a stage whisper, as he parted the fox-antelope hides that covered the entrance to the Spirit Speakers home. 

\\\\\\\\\\\\\

 

The lodge rested on a wide ledge, arguably its own small plateau, jutting out of the western face of the peak. The jagged path that ran down to the ground below zigzagged back and forth and sharp angles, which Láng rejoiced in taking a breakneck speeds. Sitting astride the russet toned saber-wolf, Quan ran over his list of chores for the day. His meeting with the elders had been brief, simply giving him a list of tasks that the people (and/or the spirits) required that day. The tasks themselves were dull and time-consuming, but Quan was pleased to help. Being able to help the people gave him a sense of purpose, and being able to interact with people who  _ weren't _ the elders was always an experience he relished. Until the past year he had only ever seen other people during the yearly solstices, when they came to the mountain to make their offerings to Mǔqīn. Thus it was with a youthful enthusiasm that he ran to complete the first order of the day.

As more and more refugees came to the mountain, it was Quan's task to ensure they camped in safe places. This mountain belonged to the Spirits, who had been gracious enough to share the sacred ground to those without a home. As the youngest Spirit Speaker, Quan was responsible for keeping the people away from the various shrines and spirit-houses that littered the woods below. Camps had to be well-tended, hunters had to observe the proper rituals, and the sacred nature of the land had to be carefully maintained. 

For the most part, Quan's job was simple. Even the most distraught people understood that they were guests in the spirits' home, and the permanent marks of the Spirit Speaker that had been inked into his skin ensured that people deferred to his judgment in these matters. It usually took no more than a few words to the heads of house at each camp to ensure that the proper practices were observed that day. The real work came in keeping so many people fed without exhausting the natural resources of the area. Only the Spirit Speakers were allowed to hunt in these woods, but there were so few of them that being able to bring home enough to feed the crowds was nearly impossible. It was a war of attrition that the tribe was slowly loosing.

For now, the fox-antelope were in season and plentiful, even if the camps had scared them further out into the woods. Quan shuddered to think of what would happen when winter came, and the herds moved on. Loping through the trees, Láng kept her nose low to the ground as they searched for game. Meanwhile Quan worked as Láng's eyes, guiding her around obstacles while she worked to locate their dinner. Working together with the ease of many years of practice, the two hunters became a single (frighteningly efficient) unit. 

Suddenly, a flash of red against the greenery. A flitting tail caught out of the corner of Quan's vision before it disappeared behind a bush. As one the hunters coiled, shifting their weight seamlessly as they bounded off at a nearly perfect 90-degree angle, sacrificing almost none of their momentum. The game was afoot. 

Trees blurred into a labyrinthine weave of grays and greens, punctuated with terrified brush strokes of fiery fur as the fox-antelope desperately tried to evade them. The prey's path was constantly weaving, never leaving a clear line of sight for Quan to take advantage of. Dodging under low branches and over thorny shrubs, the three of them danced for life among the massive roots of trees so ancient that they may have remembered the days of Raava. The fox-antelope was quick and clever, but Quan could trace these lands in his mind's-eye as easily as he could his own tattoos. There was a wide clearing ahead surrounding a deep pond. The spirits must be with him today, It was the perfect place to clean a kill.

Grasping his spear, the young spirit speaker prepared to conquer his quarry. As the green walls parted and the blinding light of day washed over them, Quan and Láng let loose a victorious howl. With a satisfying THUNK, the bone bladed spear found its mark. Landing on the wounded beast, Láng held the creature down while Quan pulled his knife from its place on his ankle and swiftly ended its suffering. 

“We thank you for this offering of life. May you're strength and guile sustain the people...” The rote prayer came out in a respectful whisper. It was only after the proper respects had been given that Quan noticed his companion was staring tensely over his shoulder. Turning to inspect the pond, Quan saw a small group of startled looking people. The band was tired and their bedraggled appearance suggested a swift evacuation and a long trip. More Saber-wolf refugees. 

Quan was surprised they had made it so far with such a small group, and so few provisions. Most arrivals came in with their entire village, and as much food as they could carry. These looked like only a single household, forced to leave in a hurry. As his eyes scanned the group, he noted one among them that obviously didn't belong. While the rest were startled by his sudden appearance, she seemed like the only one expecting a fight.

A foreigner. Her tightly wrapped outfit of reds and grays marked her as an air nomad, while her shaved head and finely tattooed arrow told the world that she was a master airbender. Without any hesitation, this foreigner rushed to place herself between Quan and the refugees. Her steel-gray eyes were passionate and protective.

“I am Unni, representative of the Balance Task Force. These refugees are under the protection of the Air Nation.” 

 

 


	2. The Foreigner

Quan gently set his knife on the grass, standing slowly and keeping his palms turned towards the foreigner. He paused for a breath, searching for the proper words to set the girl at ease, when one of his kinsmen beat him to the punch.

“Master Unni!” An weathered old woman called out softly. “He is a Spirit Speaker. One of our own.” At this the airbender's shoulders visibly relaxed, her determined expression slipping to one of near exhaustion. Walking slowly up to Unni, the elder gave her a motherly pat on the shoulder before moving to stand before Quan. Giving a polite bow, she began the greeting.

“I am Grandmother Wei, head of house Wei, daughter of Feng and Gaulon, who were preceded by Jen Li and Huan.” Quan blinked in surprise. The old greetings were uncommon these days, having fallen out of favor due to their lengthy nature. Dutifully, Quan bowed to his elder.

“I am Spirit Speaker Quan, taken by Master Chue, who was born of Kahna and Borra, preceded by Spirit Speaker Gau and Huan.” The grandmother's bark-like face split into a surprisingly bright smile.

“Then Huan has made us family, Grandson Quan!”

“Welcome home, Grandmother Wei.” Quan said with another bow of respect. Whether or not the two Huans were the same man didn't really matter, the important part of the tradition was about marking a bond of kinship. Smiling at the newcomers, Quan nodded towards Láng and the fox-antelope.

“If you all help me with cleaning the kill, we can go back to the mountain and share the meat before sunset! You all look like you could use a good meal.” His kinsmen looked excited at the prospect, and several of the youth eagerly ran over to assist. Unni, however, turned a slightly unhealthy shade of green.

“Clean the... meal.” The young woman looks uncomfortably torn between hunger and nausea. Quan was about to ask if she needed the services of a healer when the familiar cutting sounds of skinning made the woman blanch uncomfortably. Turning away stiffly, she walked towards the water.

“ _I'LL BE OVER THERE!_ ” She choked out swiftly.

 

At Quan's questioning look Grandmother Wei explained in a low whisper, as if revealing a somewhat dirty secret.

“Master Unni's people, she says they...” Wei leaned in closer. “ _they don't eat meat!_ ” Through a herculean act of willpower, Quan managed to quash the urge to laugh uncontrollably at the expression of confused horror on the old woman's face. Clearing his throat, Quan managed to school his expression into one of neutrality.

“I'll see what can be provided for her once we leave for the mountain. For now, I should help with cleaning the kill.” With a respectful bow, the young man turned back towards Láng and the children who were busily skinning the fox-antelope, his body shaking with silent laughter.

 

/////

 

An hour later the group was ready to move out, the catch of the day having been broken down into more easily transportable pieces. They took it slow, with Quan acting as a guide through the twisting trees. He walked on foot, having asked Láng to carry Grandmother Wei and some of the meat instead of himself. It wasn't long before one of the men began humming the tune to an old traveler's song. The tune quickly spread through the tired group, who took to the melody like it was a balm for the ills of a long road. Passing the lead to Láng, Quan dropped back to check on the foreigner in their midst. The young woman looked utterly exhausted, and the music seemed to do little to lift her spirits.

“Are you alright? If you need to rest, Láng can carry you with Wei. I'll just carry her share of the meat myself.” Quan offered. The airbender shook her head, but offered him a polite smile.

“I'll be alright once we make camp. I just need some sleep.” A poignant grumble from her stomach seemed to object.

“The Moose-Lion cub in your stomach would seem to think otherwise.” Quan laughed, suddenly pleased to have found a way in which he could be helpful to their guest. With a grin, he dashed off into the greenery. He reappeared a few moments later with a large, flat, mushroom. In the center dimple of the fungus was a handful of small lychee nuts. Passing these to a pleasantly surprised Unni, he ran back into the brush. It was a bit late in the year for most of the best fruits, but some of the hardier trees still had fruit to donate to the cause. As he searched, he never ranged beyond the point where he could hear the chorus of Wei's family. He returned just as several of the children were finishing the lychee nuts. Unni was slowly eating the mushroom, looking like she wanted to draw out the experience as long as she could before the food was gone.

With a whistle he caught their attention and tossed the children each one of the kiwifruit he'd managed to locate. As he fell back in with the group, he held out his final find to the airbender that had helped his people find their way home. A single moon peach, slightly overripe but perfectly edible.

“Today you are lucky! This fruit is called-”

“A moon peach!” Unni interrupted excitedly. “They grow near my home. I had no idea they also grew at this low an altitude.” Pausing to give Quan an appreciative bow, she held the fruit close to her chest. “Thank you, Spirit Speaker Quan. You've given me a small taste of home.”

“No less, for an honored guest.” Quan said with an infectious grin. “It's a small thing in return for escorting my kinsmen here.”

For a moment the only words were found in the music of their fellow travelers, while Unni relished her simple meal. It was a beautiful afternoon, and Quan hoped it would be a gentle evening. His thoughts were torn from the clouds when Unni finished eating and decided it was time to get to business.

“Spirit Speaker Quan-”

“Quan.” The young man offered amicably.

“Quan, you didn't seem surprised to see us. Aren't you wondering what brought us here?” Quan shrugged, struggling to keep darker thoughts from ruining a bright day.

“I know why they are here.” He said plainly. “We are _all_ here for the same reason. The stories are many, but the same.”

“Then you are aware of the Earth Republic's activities?” The airbender pressed.

“I know the state of Hunnan has been trying to claim this territory for the better part of a year, and my people have made them pay dearly for the soil.” Quan said darkly; a pained expression appearing only briefly, before being whisked away from prying eyes. Turning towards Unni, he attempted to lighten the mood. “What I do _not_ know, is why an Air Nomad would wish to become involved in our struggle. Why place yourself a risk for outsiders?”

“Because the Avatar is gone, and balance is the responsibility of the people now. I came here to help your leaders negotiate with Hunnan.” That was a better answer than Quan had expected. He considered this silently, wondering if this lone woman could really help Master Chue and the other elders reach some kind of an agreement with their attackers.

“And what terms would you ask the elders to offer? They are proud people, and there is only so much they will be willing to give.” He warned, neglecting to mention that his position as Spirit Speaker technically included him among their ranks. ( _An omission that his nearby kinsmen noted with silent interest_ )

“Hunnan will want to relocate your people in order to be able to mine valuable ores from the mountain, but I think they can be convinced to leave you in peace if you allow their railways to pass through your territory, and agree to leave their shipping lines alone. They want this mountain, but they _need_ those trade routes in order to reach the northern coastline.”

“These lands are sacred to the spirits. It will be very difficult to convince the elders that this can be done in such a way that wouldn't disturb the balance we have achieved here.”

“Difficult, but necessary.” Unni affirmed. “If we can't convince the government of Hunnan that this is in their best interest, then they will eventually take the mountain by force.” Quan had heard Master Chue and the others have debates of this nature a thousand times. Always, the elders agreed that there was too much at risk. It seemed to him that all avenues of discussion had long ago been exhausted, but perhaps this foreigner would contribute something new to the conversation. The fierce spirit he had seen in her when they first met might just be strong enough to break through the old walls of rhetoric that had long ago brought this issue to a stand-still among the elders.

Nodding thoughtfully at Unni's words Quan mentally donned his mantle as Spirit Speaker, his voice taking on a new note of authority and responsibility.

“When we arrive at Mǔqīn's Mountain, I will escort you to the Spirit Speakers' lodge. There, you can make your case to our elders. I will do my best to ensure that you are heard.” With that, he walked once more to the head of the column with Láng and Wei. He would need to ensure that the family found the proper camp before he could take Unni up to see Mater Chue. It was going to be a long night...


End file.
